


lucky fish and other lies

by DistractedDaydreamer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Female Harry Potter, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27573632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDaydreamer/pseuds/DistractedDaydreamer
Summary: When Rigel Black's ruse crumbled, Arcturus Black retreated from the public eye to continue his studies in America, and Harriet Potter vanished as though she had never been there. But sitting in a small cosy Chinese restaurant in Aroma Alley, eating his unlucky fish, Caelum couldn't, and wouldn't forget the girl who had shaken his worldview.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 106
Collections: Rigel Black Exchange Round 2





	lucky fish and other lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tamari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamari/gifts).



> bonus treat that I rushed out - Happy Birthday Tamari!

Caelum prodded the last bits of fish around his plate. It wasn't that the food was bad... No, the food was just as good as it had been the last two times he was here. Once, with the halfblood brat, he had lied and said the food was mediocre. The second time, one year ago, had been when Harriet had fled, and Rigel Black had been destroyed by her hand. He hadn't been able to believe the audacity of it.

He had written a letter (and burned the dozen drafts before it where his words were too - ~~caring~~ ~~worried~~ ~~vulnerable~~ unpolished) that was very rude, but he knew Harriet would read between the lines and understand what he was saying behind the vitriol. She always seemed to understand exactly what he was thinking, even though he insisted that he was the clear sighted one.

A letter didn't come for a week. He sent another, impatient one. This one garnered a response, but the penmanship was Lily Potter's beautiful cursive, not Harry's slanted scrawl.

>   
>    
>  _To Caelum Lestrange :_
> 
> _We are sorry, but we cannot forward your letters to Harriet; she has not shared with us a forwarding address._
> 
> _Aside from that, you know she won't be able to publish what she was working on in Britain anymore. She has been blacklisted by the guild; while we both know she could easily sit for her mastery, she still needs a potions master to sponsor her. When she last contacted us, she hinted that she would be looking for a master abroad who would be willing to teach her._
> 
> _I know Harriet considered you a friend. When going through her things, we found a copied set of notes regarding her shaped imbuing technique, labelled with your name. I have enclosed them with this letter._
> 
> _In the case you hear from Harriet again before we do, I hope you will inform us._
> 
> _Best regards,_
> 
> _Lily and James Potter_  
> 

He read the letter until he had it memorised, his eyes catching again and again on _“Harriet considered you a friend”_. It made him feel strange. Against all odds, he knew they had some sort of mutual affection, understanding and respect that he had never shared with anyone else before. It made him feel pleased that it was known to others; it also made him feel scared.

Those words felt insufficient, but Caelum had never been one for extended navel-gazing. His feelings weren’t all that profound, and the nagging concerns about Potter were - irrelevant. Instead, he turned his attention to the notes and to her ideas. _Such revolutionary, crazy ideas!_ It pushed the boundaries of potion making more than any other journal he had read that year, even, to some extent, more than her initial invention of the technique had; because it made it applicable and marketable.

Even more than the notes, what captivated his attention were her scribbles in the margins, all in the slanting, scrawling hand that no pureblood he had met had. Most of the notes had been clearly copied out by an enchanted quill in some generic handwriting, likely for the potions guild or other collaborators. He wondered who else had received a copy - Snape? He suspected they hadn’t parted on good terms, but as much as he hated to admit it Harriet had earned the respect of one of the greatest potion masters of their age.

But his notes had Harry’s uneven, janky letters in the corners and under paragraphs; underlined segments & the occasional dog-eared page. There was no doubt in his mind that these were her working notes, the master copy, and he pored over them more than he should have trying to glean what her influences were and how her mind worked.

She had outlined a technique to use needles to inject the potion directly into the bloodstream or near vital organs that no one had ever thought of before, and scribbled “study muggle medicine” in the margins. Caelum hadn’t even known until she vanished that Harriet had been studying Healing at AIM. He had never thought to ask before. Bitterly, he wondered what else he hadn’t known.

He knew why he hadn’t pried. A part of him wondered if they went into small-talk, if he found out more about who she was, she would demand the same from him. And the only really interesting, talented part of himself was his potions. Share about his family, his demented, controlling mother and doormat of a father? Share about Durmstrang, the cold and strict school where he had studied friendless and alone? Share the dark family spells he had studied in the Lestrange library - with the light halfblood heir of the Potters? Fat chance. No, it was better to keep the talk to potions, and luxuriate in the feeling of actually being able to talk with an intellectual equal.

And now he wouldn’t get to ask. A waiter came by to refill his cup of tea, and left again. Curling steam rose from the tea cup, and he watched it while he pushed the fish around his plate. It was getting to time to go - but he found himself reluctant to leave, to shelve his memory of Potter for another year as he went about his business trying to put out a piece of research as a master that could surpass - or even match - what Potter had accomplished before even being a journeyman. Sitting here in Aroma Alley, surrounded by strangers, not a one in the book of gold, silver or even bronze, he could be as honest with his thoughts as he pretended to be at other times.

Except… From his position facing the door of the shop, his eyes widened as he caught sight of blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that were only familiar to him from the SOW galas. Greengrass? She hadn’t been seen in society for two years. Hadn’t it been revealed that Lady Greengrass had cheated on Lord Greengrass with a muggleborn, and the daughter summarily vanished? The whole Greengrass family was remarkably tightlipped about it, though the younger sister had appeared pallid and worn all year, and excused herself from most social events.

The girl scanned the shop, smiling ironically, condescendingly when she spotted Caelum in the corner. Caelum felt the ridiculous urge to hide as the girl purposefully strode straight towards him.

“Caelum Lestrange,” drawled Greengrass. “When Hurst told me I might find you here, I couldn’t believe it. A Lestrange, slumming it in the lower alleys with the rest of us?”

Two could play at that game. Caelum consciously relaxed his posture and arranged his features in his best pureblooded condescension, reclining in the plastic chair as though it were a throne. “Greengrass, or should I say Cresswell? It’s an unexpected revelation to find you still in Britain. Society says you were shipped off to the colonies - since you’re back here, am I to assume you weren’t good enough for them either?”

Greengrass scoffed. “Seems Society is just as ignorant as it was when I left it. Your information is outdated, and you’re just as insufferable as I remembered. Do you want to hear the message or not?”

“While I have no idea why the Aldermaster would possibly deign to entrust a missive to such an unreliable messenger, let’s hear it.”

“It’s not the Aldermaster, its the younger Hurst. The message isn’t even from him, and they wouldn’t tell me who wrote it. Open it and tell me,” demanded the girl, and handed over an envelope sealed by magic.

Caelum took the envelope hesitantly, letting his distaste and wariness show on his face as it would be more insulting. The moment he touched the envelope, he almost dropped it. It was humming with magic. Familiar magic. Magic he hadn’t felt for years. Hope rose up in him, but he squashed it down before it could change his expression. He would see the letter first.

A few quick charms ascertained that it was spelled to only open for a certain magical signature, and warded with several hexes for anyone else. Nothing lethal or nasty - but it would destroy the letter and be a funny though unpleasant experience for the opener. Essentially, a prank. But his name was written on the envelope, in the standard cursive that indicated a charmed quill, so taking a deep breath he opened the letter.

>   
>  _Caelum,_
> 
> _I know its been years since you’ve heard from me. Hi? It’s Harry._
> 
> _I heard you got your mastery - congratulations! I obtained a copy of your thesis, and I thought your use of distilled oils to apply secondary effects to potions was particularly ingenious. And of course, your use of my method for imbuing. It surprised me when you didn’t patent anything, but the potions field will thank you for it. I certainly have._
> 
> _But as much as I miss talking potions with you, I’m sure that what you really want from me is answers._
> 
> _First, you’re getting an apology. I’m sorry I vanished and didn’t write. After Rigel…was gone, I had to leave Britain for a while. Also, I’m sorry but I need to ask one more thing of you._
> 
> _Hopefully, you’ve read my notes. You’ll know I was working on healing potions, especially those for life-threatening situations. I’ve been working on a cure for an even more ambitious disease - the Fade. But Harriet Potter - or even Arcturus Black, or the rest of my family, wouldn’t be able to convince dark pureblooded families to give us the time of day now. I need your help._
> 
> _You once joked about letting me be your apprentice. Were you serious? I’d really like to collaborate with you on this - and I’d be happy to let you take credit for most of it. My identity would have to remain a secret of course - but I think I trust you._
> 
> _Ask the messenger where to go, and you’ll get answers to any of your questions in person. I hope to see you._
> 
> _\- Harry Potter_

“So?” Asked Daphne impatiently. “You’ve read that letter like, three times now. Who’s it from?”

Caelum knew he should be schooling his expression, but he couldn’t help but smile. “An old friend - one I thought I’d never hear from again.”

“Eurgh,” said Daphne, making a face. “I can’t believe the Lestrange heir makes sappy faces like that. Let’s get going before your saccharine tone makes me vomit.”

Caelum, still smiling, got up from his seat. He took a last look at his half-eaten plate of fish.

Guess it was lucky after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately, no master/apprentice shennanigans. I hope you like pining yearning Caelum anyway!
> 
> (a simple accident of birth by beezlebubble_tea inspired my daphne characterisation, please check that out too!!)


End file.
